


In Dalaran

by Kalyppso



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Background Khadgar (Warcraft)/Original Female Character(s), Background Lor'themar Theron/Original Female Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, these two background original characters are not the same person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23629918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalyppso/pseuds/Kalyppso
Summary: After the loss of Lordaeron, Borgakh, an orc and veteran of the Horde, goes to see an old friend to discuss the state of Azeroth, as well as matters of family and the heart.
Relationships: Khadgar (Warcraft) & Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	In Dalaran

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to scrap this because it was being cut out of another fic I might actually end up posting even tho I wrote it right after playing the Battle for Lordaeron and had previously never done anything with it, but after sharing it with people who knew nothing about the game, I finally got to show it to someone who had played WoW and they said they loved it, so I'm posting this on it's own.

Borgakh moved as calmly down the hallway as she could before dismissing her pet to her pocket dimension and activating her Dalaran Hearthstone. She wondered if she would still be welcome there, and whether the ground was still neutral. Perhaps she was teleporting to her death.

It was jarring that save for a more sombre atmosphere, nothing had changed; not the crowds, nor the wares, nor the sky above. 

The stars shone overhead. It was late, close to the witching hour even. Regardless, she needed to see her friends. She started with casual acquaintances, people who would be working at this hour, before risking the Violet Citadel; the Archmages were tireless, ever working. Borgakh was surprised to see them, having expected the faction to retreat behind Alliance lines to stand with their origins, and Jaina.

Seeing Khadgar's grey hair sent a wave of relief through Borgakh, despite knowing that if someone of his rank and prestige had passed, that she would surely have heard about it by now. While waiting for him to finish his conversation, he caught sight of her from the corner of his eye. Khadgar quickly excused himself and in a flash, or a Blink, he was all around Borgakh, bear hugging her so that she chuckled weakly, eyes aglow in tears as she brought up a crooked arm to tap his back.

"Khadgar, I–" Borgakh began as he pulled away, but then coughed herself into composure. "Please, tell me. How is your family?"

He smiled weakly and escorted her into the night air. "She's fine," he answered firmly. "But not all I cared for made it through the latest faction disaster. What happened? I thought we were so close to peace."

"I wanted it too, Khadgar," Borgakh lamented. "The short answer is that fear ... happened. Power imbalance. The usual reasons people go to war against one another."

The cobblestones clattered comfortingly beneath their feet, and Borgakh wished she had been more present just a month ago, walking these streets with her human friend.

"Khadgar," she called to him again. "I killed–"

"I know."

"But just ... I can't–"

"You know that I will never understand why you ... and so many others like you – good-hearted people – don't simply refuse. I know there's not enough of you, in either faction, to feel like you wouldn't be massacred simply for not following orders, but ... for now at least, you are my friend, Borgakh; and I can tell by your composure that you've been through a lot. Why don't we sit down, and drink a lot of wine?"

Borgakh chuckled as she wiped at her eyes and consented to the idea.

The inn they went to was filled with little groups that looked like their duo, companions who, one would at least assume, came from either faction, having muted conversations, punctuated by the occasional fit of laughter. She told him of those she'd lost and those she'd tried to save, sending night elves to fend for themselves in the forests of Darkshore. She lamented the loss of the World Tree, and the massacres that followed. They spoke of homes, and belonging, and what those words might really mean.

"Friendship is home," Khadgar had said. "You went through something traumatic, and you came home."

This kindness caused Borgakh to break down. She crossed her arms on the table and sobbed into them for a long time. For so long in fact, Khadgar had moved from the seat across from her to sit next to his troubled companion, gently massaging the back of her neck until the moment passed. Besides the trauma of her own life, Borgakh had been overcome by all those who were never coming home again; those who had passed and all those who had lost everything in this faction war over the past few decades.

"You hardly ever talk about those you've lost," Borgakh observed.

"Well I–"

"Do you think there will come a time when you never again speak of me?"

Khadgar sighed painfully. He ran his hands up and down the sides of his goblet and his voice cracked in sorrow, "Borgakh, I remember vividly the friends I have lost over the span of my life, and I am happy to remember them with you. Please don't think for a moment that I become indifferent or forgetful about those who've touched my life simply because a few years have passed." Their eyes met as she sat up, her hands curling in front of her, unnecessary guilt coiling around her features. Khadgar assured this woman made of scars, "You will live on in my words, and in my heart when you have gone."

They spoke of the dead, from those lost in recent battles to others from ages long passed. Not only in sadness now, but with silly stories of lost watches and frightened birds. It wasn't long before the sun was on the horizon, and Borgakh fumbled and fell over apologies, but Khadgar wouldn't hear of it. They switched wine for ale and ordered breakfast. He continued the conversation without her, allowing her time to recover and continue recuperating. He told her of what had happened in Dalaran, and then more mundane and trite affairs, like finding a book right when he'd needed it last week.

Borgakh tore through ham, sausage and Khadgar's tales until she was sated.

"I miss Thrall," she said suddenly.

"Don't we all," Khadgar laughed and clinked their goblets together.

"Lucky bastard," Borgakh droned, thinking of how he escaped all the excitement to start a family. She looked at Khadgar, wondering if he knew. "I'm almost too old to have children."

"Did you want children?"

"I don't know. Being a parent ... takes you out of the fighting, doesn't it? You have to focus all of your energy on protecting your family, instead of being able to drop everything to save the world. Have you seen the orphanages in Orgrimmar? Shameful. I wouldn't dare leave a child there while trying to assure them that it would only be for a few weeks while I was off fighting demons or invaders or whatever the next monstrosity is that's coming."

He grimaced. "I didn't realize you didn't have any family. Or at least, none who could mind an infant or two?"

Borgakh scoffed. "Even if I had family, I doubt I would have anyone I could trust. My friends are generally not the type of people you'd imagine as babysitters."

"You know," Khadgar said lazily, "I feel like you're only thinking about if you had an orc child, but what if you were to mother a half-orc? They might want to stay with the people from the other half of their parentage."

Borgakh squirmed at the accusation. He knew of her tryst with Lor'themar from years ago, but truly she hadn't even thought of another parent in the equation when musing about offspring. Regardless, she tightened her shoulders and leaned away from the human to look at him a little more directly as she answered, "An orc is an orc is an orc Khadgar; or is Garona not proof enough of that for you?"

She tried to imagine birthing a child that wouldn't know her Horde, the ideals she'd been able to foster as a result of environment. Or one that would outlive her allegiances, by a hundred years or more. She couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"I suppose I have about six years to decide, or to have the decision made for me," she concluded.

"You'd make a wonderful teacher. Not all bonds of parenthood come by birth," Khadgar tried to say encouragingly.

"Maybe," Borgakh conceded. "I can't believe all the work towards peace that yourself, Thrall and Jaina invested in is just ... gone though."

Khadgar switched to water, and suggested she do the same. "There have been ... major setbacks, that's true; but I don't think gone is the right word. I think we could still get there in your lifetime."

She led the conversation back to Lordaeron, but not to discuss the battle or anything of world changing import. She spoke to Khadgar of Lor'themar, never calling him by name, and their conversation in his quarters.

He asked politely, "Are you looking for advice?"

"Yes," she admitted. "Should I... What should I do?"

"Well," he began, resisting the urge to trace a finger around the rim of his goblet, "unlike before, I think you need to consider your status. You're a vital member of the Horde now, perhaps even more so than he. If spymasters were to discover ... your situation, what would that mean for you? For Silvermoon?"

Borgakh seemed to shrink in her seat, which was hard for the woman, so Khadgar forced himself to continue, "But more personally, I think you're looking at this with too much permanence in mind. As if forgiving him now means you forgive him forever."

"Or living with myself now, means living with myself forever."

"Don't be so melancholy," he insisted with a jab of his elbow. "But you have the idea. Love is complicated. You'll likely never know what your next step should be. You can only chase the present."

After a long gulp of ale, Borgakh sighed. "I hope you and your mate have many more happy years together, my friend."

"Me too."

"Stupid sexy elves," Borgakh whined jokingly. She pushed herself into Khadgar's personal space as he raised an eyebrow. "Oh come now, I know yours is a perfect, good-hearted warrior goddess of some kind and mine is an idiot in whom I have less and less faith as time goes by, but go in with me on this."

"You know what?" He laughed as he pointed a finger. "I will. If they weren't so attractive then we could make more logical decisions."

"It's a shame what ... everyone I've ever trusted or warred against has done to them."

"Damn, you went off track fast."

They were both giggling as Borgakh admitted, "Yeah, I need to work through some stuff or drink more heavily." Suddenly, Borgakh perked up, her ears twitching to attention. "Khadgar? You should tell her."

"About your drinking?" he asked lazily, swallowing another mouthful of water.

"No, no. Khadgar, tell your mate that if she should ever find herself taken by the Horde, or in another scenario where it might help, that she can ask for me. I'll pay her ransom. I'll fight in her name. Whatever it may be." Borgakh's eyes sort of crossed then as she finished her statement in a whisper, "And ... I'll go on hoping never to hear from her."

"Borgakh that's... You're drunk."

"So?"

He chuckled, "I shouldn'-"

"Khadgar, I insist. Maybe she'll hate it, refuse on principle, but let me feel like I've done something for you. Tell me you'll tell her."

He hesitated.

"I will fight you, old man," she joked.

"You're really drunk," he laughed. "But fine, alright. I'll tell her."

"Good, now go find your bed. There are black circles under your beady mage eyes."

Khadgar gauged the position of the sun before agreeing, "I could get a few hours of sleep yet. You'll come see me before you leave Dalaran, won't you?"

"I promise."

"Good."

Borgakh spent two days in Dalaran. Although her time was dedicated to fishing, people-watching, and playing fetch with her pets, her true goals were collecting her thoughts and recovering. She caught sight of Khadgar across the courtyards a few times and would wave politely, but she didn't intrude on him as she did when she arrived in town. However, she did keep her promise and came to visit him on the morning of the third day to say goodbye.

"If you'll be gone for more than a month, I'd love if you'd write," he admitted as they parted from a simple hug.

"I will," she agreed, crossing her arms around herself. "Don't forget to tell your sweetheart my name."

He seemed surprised. "I assumed you would have forgotten that."

"You know I honor my words."

Khadgar smiled. "I'll tell her."

**Author's Note:**

> I was so mad after Lordaeron. I just wanted to be angry and comforted.
> 
> I'd love a kudos or comment, especially if you're a guest!


End file.
